Gilbert Comes Home
by Copperbell111
Summary: A very dark tale of the night Gilbert came home covered in blood that was not his own.
1. Chapter 1

One very cold day in November, walking slowly and shakily, one foot in front of the other, his hands by his side, and shell shocked, Gilbert Beilschmidt walked along the cold dark streets towards his home. He was staring straight ahead, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular, wide, mad eyes. Gilbert was drenched in blood and not his own. Stopping suddenly he looked down at the blood on his arms and his clothes. It was in his hair, dripping down his face and rolling down his neck. He looked to his left and his breath caught as he beheld the pitiful and broken figure of Francis Bonnefoy lying face down in the dirt. He looked like he was dead, for he did not move. "Francis?" he gasped. F.. Francis.. ?

He didn't know what to do, and so he kept walking in the cold snowy night towards home. He stopped as something caught his eye to the right. Feli Vargas, bleeding from a terrible head wound and ripped to shreds lying in the cold snow. He could feel water in his eyes, and tears streaming down his face. Somehow he knew he was responsible but he didn't want to believe it. On and on he walked, and then he heard footsteps behind him moving faster and faster, running towards him. He turned quickly and beheld Ivan Braginski, knife raised to heaven ready to attack him. Gilbert did not run, he was not afraid of Ivan, and instead stood his ground as the rage within him grew stronger. The last thing Ivan saw before he was thrown violently into the nearest tree by an unseen force was Gilbert's glowing violet eyes. Gilbert stared at what looked like Ivan's corpse now cold and silent on the frosted Earth. "Ivan… " he mumbled through his trembling lips. "…tried to kill me…"

On he stumbled slowly through the nightmare of dead and dying soldiers around him listening to the deathly sounds of their cries for help and at that point felt a hand grasp his ankle. He stopped and looked down to see a soldier there. Arthur Kirkland, still alive but barely so, and bleeding badly into the white snow.

"G… Gilbert…" he gasped through dying breath. "Stop.. you… you've got to stop…" Arthur uttered. He looked up at Gilbert who looked back at him and tilted his head a little as if to take in the pitiful form of Arthur at his feet. He just stared at him though, he didn't kneel down to help him or anything.

"I am going home." He said sounding quite calm, and Arthur felt a terrifying unseen force at his throat squeezing his windpipe till blood came from his mouth. He fell backward into the snow also apparently dead.

Gilbert was out of control. He could not stop what he was doing, and he had no desire to stop, and yet it all terrified him inside. On he walked slowly through the snow, blood seeping through his clothes and trailing behind him, not his own blood, but that of those he had killed, till he came to a grand house and he heard music inside. Someone was playing a beautiful religious melody on a church organ and he stopped abruptly slowly turning to face the house. It was the music of Roderich Edelstien. It was a soft and enchanting melody and drawn by its irresistible force, Gilbert made his way up the steps to the front door, slowly opening it with his bloodstained and frozen hands he walked inside to the warm rooms out of the cold. He looked around, and in every possible place, the chairs, the tables, the window ledges, the mantle pieces, and surfaces and the floor, were candles, hundreds of them. It was warm, and safe and so beautiful that Gilbert began to sob and cry, letting out all of his emotions. Slowly and surely he made his way up the stairs one by one being careful not to knock over the candles and trying to find Roderich and his beautiful music. One by one he climbed them till he reached the top and then the music stopped. It was as if, at that very moment he came out of a trance there and then, and saw that there was blood all over him from head to toe. He stared at it wide eyed, filled with horror and screamed out "No… no… what have I done? What have I done?" He cried. Eventually stumbling into the bathroom nearby he shed his clothes, laying them in a bloody pile by the bath as he ran the water, and he got in, washing the blood from his eyes, from his face, his hair somewhat frantically, crying and feeling it now, realising what he had done and feeling absolutely wretched. It didn't take long to wash all the blood away and as he got out of the bath he put on a Prussian blue robe tying it in the middle.

There standing on the landing was Ludwig, his brother. "Gilbert.." he uttered, and looked behind him into the bathroom, the bloody water just making its way down the plughole.

"They wouldn't listen to me.." Gilbert began. "They laughed at me Ludwig…. Ludwig…" he mumbled with tears streaming down his face as he reached out to his brother. Ludwig obliged and hugged him.

"What did you do Gil?" he whispered. "You shouldn't have done it… " he said gently.

"They laughed at me Ludwig.. " he wept "I couldn't stop… I just couldn't stop…"

There was someone on the stairs, as Feli Vargas, all injured but still alive, stumbled towards them reaching out for Ludwig. Gilbert immediately thought he was attacking him and turned to face him.

"No Gilbert don't!" cried Ludwig but it was too late. Knives hurled themselves at Feli, pinning him to the stair bannister, with one hand and then to the wall with the other hand, and four knives stabbed him in the chest. Feli hung there like a macabre vision of Jesus crucified, his wounds dripping all over the stairs.

Ludwig looked on in horror at what he had just witnessed, but he didn't want to anger Gilbert any more than he was. Somehow Gilberts rage had manifested in this way, a demonic poltergeist. He held his brother by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Oh Gilbert…" Ludwig uttered as his big blue eyes filled with tears. "This isn't your fault okay? We will get you a priest…" he sobbed as he also hugged a very distressed and upset Gilbert. "You'll be alright Gil.. you'll be alright… "

"Help me Ludwig…" he cried "You've got to help me.."

Ludwig beheld his beloved Feli dying like an animal on the stairs and he hugged Gilbert. Ludwig was filled with so much hurt and pain and he knew he had to do something. "Gilbert… I knew you were the Devil" he uttered softly and stroked his brothers hair. "I knew always that something was inside of you that one day would have to be controlled somehow. Pray with me Gilbert… hmm? Pray with me…." he whispered under his breath "…one last time.."

"Yes I will pray…" Gilbert replied as they both began to recite the lords prayer.

"Our Father who art in heaven…" they both began "Hallowed be thy name…" Ludwig wept as Gilbert finding comfort and safety in the arms of his brother suddenly felt the cold sharp blade of a knife stick in his back. Ludwig had stabbed him. Once again he could hear the beautiful music of Rhoderich Edelstien fill the air, and around him as if appearing from nowhere stood Arthur Kirkland, Francis Bonnefoy, Ivan Braginski, and those who he thought he had killed. All of them bloodied and weak and barely alive. At that point also entered Alfred Jones and he, Arthur, and Francis all stabbed him one after the other without emotion. Then Ivan who was the strongest, picked up the corpse of Gilbert, taking him down the stairs and leaving Ludwig alone… except he was not entirely alone as he sat there on the floor crying and broken. He looked up and saw poor Feli pinned to the bannister. He was filled with horror once more, and then of pity, as he screamed out and unpinned his friend from this horrible position. He held Feli in his arms, as the young Italian seemed to be healed by his touch and opened his eyes a little.

"Ludwig…?"


	2. Chapter 2 War Guilt

War Guilt

No one came to Gilberts funeral. No one that is except for his brother Ludwig, dressed in black and in deep mourning. The snow was falling upon the ground and it was probably the coldest winter anyone had ever known. No one wanted Gilbert to be buried in the cemetery and so his grave was a plot on a hill with a single tree growing atop it. The gravestone was a simple cross with Gilberts name carved in intricate letters along the middle. After the ceremonies and the grave being filled in, Ludwig visited every day for weeks, overcome with grief that was so bad it consumed his entire being. Feli sometimes would go along with him and sit in the car watching him. He hadn't seen Ludwig like this before, ever. He was usually the one who was in control and it was heart-breaking to see him miss Gilbert so much, and he wished that Ludwig could open up and talk about it with him. One morning in December they drove to the little hill where Gilbert was buried and Ludwig made his way up the rocky hillside with a little bunch of flowers in his hand to lay at his brothers grave. Feli watched him sadly climb up to the top, and his heart went out to him. He looked down at his own hands, the wounds still visible where once Gilbert had pinned him to the stairwell with knives. He was healing and getting better thanks to Ludwig's care and attention. He had a bandage on his head that would still sometimes get a little bloodied.

Ludwig got to the top of the little hill and went to lay the flowers at the graveside but the grave had been horribly vandalised. Scrawled across Giberts name were the words "Gilbert Bielschmidt burn in hell"

The normally strong and unflappable Ludwig dropped the flowers and then dropped to his knees by the grave. Looking on from the car Feli felt his heart fly from his chest all for Ludwig. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. Although he was injured and Ludwig had told him to stay in the car he had to go up there to Ludwig, to help him.

The cold wind howled around the pitiful figure of Ludwig kneeling at his brothers vandalised grave. Who could have done this? He had no idea that Feli was making his way up there, he thought the young Italian was in the car, and safe from any harm. Feli could hear Ludwig breaking down, he was quietly weeping in front of the grave. "Oh Ludwig…" he whispered to himself as he reached the top of the hill. He didn't want to startle Ludwig and so he hid behind a rock for a moment and listened to the big German lamenting the death of his brother.

"Gilbert..I didn't want to hurt you… " he sobbed "It was the only way… and I know you can never forgive me… I cannot forgive myself…."

Feli stood there taking it all in. Poor Ludwig was blaming himself for his brothers death but there was more.

"We caused a war… we did it… you and I." he uttered. "I should be lying in that grave next to you… for what I have done. I feel terrible Gil… and no one will listen to me…. Just like they never listened to you… they never…."

Ludwig had a razor blade in his pocket and he took it out and held it against his wrist. "Look at what they did to your grave… " He was starting to break down. He held the razor blade in his leather gloved hand and allowed himself to cry, deep heartfelt tears that slipped from his eyes on to the cold snow covered ground. "It was my fault… it was my fault…"

Alarmed, Feli moved to behind Ludwig and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't you Ludwig… " he uttered "It wasn't you or Gilbert…"

No one had ever spoken those words to him before. Everyone blamed Ludwig and Gilbert for the war, and those few words touched him like none had ever touched him. It was as though his heart had started beating again, where he never knew it had stopped.

"Feli…" he uttered "You were to stay in the car…" he had his head turned away from Feli so as he wouldn't see his tears.

"You were not to blame Ludwig…" Feli struggled to say for he wanted to cry too, and it was far harder for him to keep a grip on his emotions at the best of times. "They just said it was you and Gilbert so that they could be spared their own guilt for what happened…" he whispered.

"Feli…" Ludwig whispered shakily. "Ich Liebe dich…" he mumbled. "We did….we did it… "

"No…" the young Italian replied as he held the kneeling Ludwig to his stomach. Ludwig caressed him and Feli knew as he held him there that he was crying. "Britain had reasons… Austria had reasons… Russia had reasons… all of which are as bad and if not worse than you believe your reasons were." Feli uttered and stroked Ludwig's hair a little.

Ludwig gripped his body and Feli could have fallen but he stood strong. Ludwig had never cried like this before and it was frightening to hear his anguished voice release those terrible pent up emotions within.

"I killed my brother…" he wailed "I killed him…"

"No… Ludwig you were protecting me… you did it for me…"

A tearful Ludwig gazed up at Feli who wiped away his tears. "Come on Ludwig… we should go home."

Helping Ludwig to his feet they began to make their way down to the car, when he heard a noise behind them. Perhaps it was the person who had vandalised his brother's grave. "I… I just need a minute…" Ludwig said to Feli "Go down to the car… and wait… I will just be a moment."

Feli nodded but he was cautious. "I am not going anywhere though Ludwig, I will wait right here…" He refused to go to the car but if Ludwig wanted a moment with his brothers grave then so be it.

Something was different. Somehow Ludwig felt stronger and it may have been that Feli was there for him but something else was happening, and he didn't know what. When he reached the top of the hill again no one was there, but one thing he hadn't noticed was a large red apple that had mysteriously appeared on the tree but it was the middle of winter and he was sure it wasn't there before. "Is… there anybody there?" Ludwig asked out loud, only to be answered by the howling of the wind. No one was there, although the apple was strange. It was a very surreal moment. "Rest in Peace Mien Bruder.." he uttered in a low voice as he turned to leave, head bowed and hunched over, as the apple fell from the tree.

Someone caught the apple before it hit the ground.

"Leaving so soon Bruder?" came the cocky voice of Gilbert. Ludwig stopped in his tracks. Could it be? Turning around quickly he saw Gilbert there in his blue uniform he had been buried in, but he was every inch a ghost. His face now deathly white, his blond hair now a platinum blond and his eyes, violet in life now a more vibrant violet than ever. He held the apple in his right hand and walked forward. "Let me give you this apple.. "

"GILBERT!" he practically screamed and had to grab on to the rock to stop himself from falling over in sheer fear and shock.

"Don't you know I can never die… not really… I am Prussia… " he said and took a few steps towards Ludwig.

"But you can't be here… you… I… I killed you…" gasped Ludwig, practically pinned up against the rock. Feli looked up to see what was going on and all he saw was Ludwig looking paralysed with fear and standing rigid against the rock. He was talking to his brother but there was no one there.

"Oh God Ludwig.." uttered Feli placing his hand to his mouth in shock and in pity. Had poor Ludwig been so badly affected that he thought Gilbert was there?

"Gilbert… no….no…" gasped Ludwig as Gilbert handed him the apple.

"You take this apple and I will live forever…" he said with that cocky grin of his. "Take a bite Snow White.." he uttered. "Just one little bite of this delicious apple…" he whispered. As if under some kind of spell Ludwig took that apple in his hand.

"Just one little bite…" whispered Gilbert in an ethereal voice. "And all your troubles will be over…"

In some kind of hypnotic trance, Ludwig took a bite of the apple and it was just the most delicious apple he had ever tasted. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply but when he awoke there was no sign of Gilbert, no apple, and only himself by the graveside. However something was different. He felt no more guilt whatsoever… in fact now what was within him were the seeds of revenge. Feli stood behind him and reached out to him.

"Ludwig are you alright?" he asked with concern.

Ludwig smiled and turned around wiping the remains of tears from his cheeks. "I'm alright Feli.." he replied. "Lets go home…."

They walked down the hill to the car, Ludwig feeling a lot brighter than he had when they had first arrived.

"How are your injuries?" Ludwig asked as they stopped by the car.

"Oh you know… painful… but I am getting better." Feli replied. Ludwig held him in his arms and embraced him. "Thank you Feli.." he whispered softly. "You were right… they did blame me for the war… and it was not all my fault … " he said and slid his finger under Feli's chin, tilting his head upwards so his eyes met his gaze. Feli could feel his hot breath on his lips, and without thinking he kissed him deeply and held on to him. This was the Ludwig he knew and loved.

"We will go home now… and make some changes." Ludwig said in a low but very calm and reassuring voice as he let Feli into the car. He got round the other side and was about to get in when he saw the ghost of Gilbert sitting in the back seat of the car. A slow smile graced Ludwig's features and he winked at Gilbert who winked back, then he got into the car and began to drive.


End file.
